In Room 303
by Geek Scribe
Summary: Years apart have turned Sonic and Amy into different people. Amy's a grounded cop and Sonic's a travelling everyday hero. Now, in Room 303 of Sonic's hotel, they must face a new budding attraction, put off by space and time. Will they reconnect for a night? Or will this romance stretch further than either can imagine?


It wasn't the poshest place I could've pictured. It wouldn't even make my top ten decent-ish hotel rooms I've stayed in my lifetime. But there was something absolutely magic there.

Sonic had spread the thin, cheap sheet over our heads as we sat, lotus style, across from each other. Stacks of pillows held up the linens above and the mattress squeaked every time we so much as shifted. The flashlight was on, pointing up, giving Sonic one of those spooky horror story faces as he stuck his tongue out at me.

I giggled.

We were like children all over again. 12 and 15-year-old Amy and Sonic, holed up in a pillow fort telling stories. We whispered into the space between us, as though anyone could come in and hear at any second. Like Vanilla or Vector or some other, more mature person would demand that we sleep.

Of course, that wasn't the case. He was a grown ass man by now, though still very much childlike. He had grown into his own, become a travelling worker. He'd been everywhere by now, done everything and planned to make sure even more was left to do in his path.

"I met this kid," he began, back tracking to his most recent adventure, building schools in Mazuri. "He was at the well, no shoes, had a long ways to walk, so, I offered him a ride home. He gets in, the car is a rental with a convertible top and he asks why the car has no top. And I say, 'a lot of really nice cars where I'm from don't have roofs.' And he gives me this look and says 'that's sad. Maybe one day you'll be able to afford the roof.'"

I laughed, adjusting the extra blanket Sonic had draped around me earlier that night over my shoulder. He chuckled himself and shook his head.

"Every thing's just so different out there, from place-to-place," he sighed. "I like it. Different's always been my thing."

"But it's nice to have something familiar," I added.

"Yeah." He smiled back at me, wide and genuine. "Yeah, familiar's good."

I cleared my throat, looking up at him from my tilted face. It was nice to see him, to talk to him, after all this time.

He took my hand from my folded lap, holding it. His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, my skin heating in his path. My eyes widen and I couldn't hide my blush. He turned my hand over in his own, palm up, and traced the soft lines between calloused numbness. I felt myself shiver involuntarily. He grinned, placing the flashlight in my open hand.

What a tease right?

I moved my hand from his, gripping the flashlight beneath my chin and telling my own story.

"I have a way of finding trouble at work, the boss hates it," I started. "So he says, 'Constable Rose, you are gonna take your police car, find a nice quiet suburb, park there and do your paperwork. I don't want any trouble from you tonight.'"

"Ha!" Sonic exclaims, as though the mere thought of me sitting quietly was the most hilarious part of the story.

I smirked and went on. "So I do just that. I find the high middle class suburb, park on the street and start my paper work when all of a sudden I hear this screech. I turn to see what's going on and over the hill at this local park comes a freaking car flying over the grass."

"No!"

"Yes!" I squeal. "It keeps going and I start my sirens, hoping the guy will just stop but they keep going, going, going right into someone's garage door!"

Sonic's biting his lip, head shaking. I can feel the tension in his chest, hear the word 'idiot' running through his head. And that was something coming from him: daredevil extraordinaire.

"So, obviously, the cars not moving anymore and I run up to get the person out of the car. But guess what, it's some whining little rich girl screaming 'get your hands off me,' and all that stuff. So I get her out, she's screaming in my ear and all of a sudden she just falls. I catch her, sit her down on the curb, and smell the alcohol. So I get out the Breathalyzer and, guess what, it's 0.40%! She should be freaking dead! I call the hospital, because she's waaaaay beyond the drunk tank and she starts complaining. 'My Daddy'll have your job' and all that."

He rolled his eyes but I wasn't done with this yet.

"So, I ride in the ambulance with her, stay by her bed in ER and who shows up but her dear old dad, commissioner of my fucking police department!"

Sonic runs his palm down his red face as he laughs. "The Hell did he say about it?"

"Oh, you should have seen it," I laughed, remembering his expression. "He was so embarrassed, beat red and everything. All he said was thanks and then officially dismissed me."

"God," he breathed out disbelieving amusement. "God, Ames, you clearly chose the more interesting job."

"More interesting than travelling common hero of the everyday man?" I questioned, cocking my head.

He gave a nod. "Yeah, more interesting. I should stay just to hear more of those stories."

"Well, there's plenty more."

"I bet."

"Hmm."

A moment of silence passed between us. Only the springs of the bed alerting me that Sonic had moved closer. He took the light from my hands and placed it between us, no one holding it. I looked at the halo it made on the sheet. His silhouette could be seen leaning closer and closer to me.

"I like this, talking to you," he whispered. It was even more hushed than before. His words weren't for anyone else: the space, the sheets, the rented pillows and mattress, the walls. They were just for me and him.

His hands went down on the bed as he made his way over to me. I could feel myself heating up all over as he crawled closer and closer.

"I like being close to you."

I kept my eyes glued to his shadow on the sheet. He raised his hand, tracing his finger along my jaw, over to my chin, thumb plucking lightly on my bottom lip. I still wouldn't look at him.

"I like..." he hesitated, breath hitching. It had been a long time and he seemed unsure where he stood with me, whether I felt the same way. Whether any step further was possible with me like it used to be when we were crime fighting kids. "I like when I can touch you."

 _Click._

The light went out. Whether by his doing or that of the cheap batteries he used I wasn't sure but all that was left was that warmth under my chin, on my lips, the heat of his breath on my neck as he leaned even closer.

"Do you like this?" He breathed. "Do you want me to touch you?"

I was silent. Yes. The answer was yes. I wanted him to touch me but I wanted it slow. I wanted, for once, to go at my own pace. I didn't want to chase Sonic, or try to keep up when he swept me away somewhere on a whim.

I was curious, adventurous, just like him. But the only difference was that I was grounded. I like testing the water.

I shook my head, feeling a no escape from my lungs softly, as though it was just as natural as an exhale.

His hand left my chin and he sat back. I could hear his every move, the shrieking springs, his quills brushing against the cloth, his breath, eager and resigned all at once.

"I..." I leaned in, feathering my fingertips over his collar bone, his chest, his abs, lower, lower. He gasped. "I want to touch you."

I could see the silhouette of his quills bristle messily, his breath got heavier. But he didn't dare move. I was setting our pace.

"Sonic..." I leaned in, slowly, slowly, and with a gentle move forward, kissed him.

* * *

 **Soooooo...what do you guys think? I tried something a teensy bit heavier. Figured there was no better way to remove the deadly writer's block than a one shot that pushed my romance limits a bit more.**

 **This actually was a lot of fun to write and I'd be willing to continue if you guys were interested. ;)**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading. Review, follow, fav, PM, tell me how you like this, K? Bye! :)**


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